


broken glass

by imadetheline



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Introspection, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadetheline/pseuds/imadetheline
Summary: Just a collection of Hannibal one-shots, drabbles, or half-formed ideas I've had. Usually angsty, maybe some fluff in future. Updates whenever I have an idea
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 6





	1. you know I'm like a ghost, sometimes I have to fade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for suicide in this one. please don't read if that will upset you. stay safe everyone
> 
> Tltle from Ghost by Au/ra

The fall. The water in his lungs. The rocks scraping over his ribs. The blood between his fingers. It’s not enough. They’re never enough.

It’s been weeks. 

There’s no more blood. Except what Hannibal brings home on his hands. Will doesn’t ask, doesn’t talk much at all. They haven’t touched since Hannibal finished patching up his injuries from the fall.

Dinners are ash in his mouth. His skin is always cold despite the heat in the air. Hannibal leaves during the day. Will doesn’t ask where he goes. He doesn’t care.

Will had discovered he didn’t care anymore when he woke up gasping on a beach, shivers wracking his drenched body, a faint throbbing beneath the numbness and cold stealing inside his bones. Hannibal had been there, his hands warm against Will’s chest. Not warm enough.

Will has never been warm, but the ocean stole what was left of it and crept into his veins. His first breaths free of water are shaky and he can tell no matter how much air he sucks into his lungs he’ll never be alive again. He hasn’t felt anything since that rush of power and joy on the edge of the cliff. He thinks it’s a good feeling to go out on at least. But it stole every other emotion from his chest.

He’d tried again, with Hannibal: the blood slipping through his fingers, the fire in Hannibal’s eyes, the body cooling below them, but he hadn’t even felt a spark of anything, just as empty as ever.

He can’t even find the energy to wish he’d died in the ocean wrapped in Hannibal’s arms. That opportunity is passed. So he sleeps for an hour. And then he sits in an armchair and walks through the forest in his head. And then Hannibal makes dinner and watches him carefully to be sure he eats. Day after day.

His empathy is still there. He still catches the disappointed looks Hannibal casts his way, sees Hannibal’s hand stretch out towards him before hesitating and falling back to his side. He wouldn’t stop Hannibal if he did try to touch him, doesn’t think he’d stop Hannibal from doing anything. He might even thank him if his hands offered death. But Hannibal doesn’t try. So they stay, separated like stars burning galaxies apart. 

Will thinks that if they’re stars then his star is dying. He feels the poison creeping through his veins day after day. It feels like ice. It’s always been there but the fire under Hannibal’s skin used to burn it away. Now there’s no fire hot enough.

His limbs feel leaden when he finally decides to reach for a knife. He doesn’t think Hannibal will begrudge him this. This last act of emotion. The only one he can muster. He doesn’t even think it can really be called emotion if he’s just tired. One empty to the next, but perhaps his bones won’t be as heavy in the next one. Besides, he’s already dead.

The knife is colder than his skin. He hadn’t thought that was possible. It’s even colder against his throat. But then there’s the blessing of warm blood on his fingers. For a blessed second the cold recedes. Will smiles.

The cold returns like the tide a moment later, but not for long. Will doesn’t mind. It’s familiar this time.


	2. my body turns to ice, i feel right at home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from trampoline by SHAED

He doesn’t mind being cold. He’s always been that way, his skin freezing to the touch, his eyes an icy blue. In fact it helps him avoid people. They don’t like to touch him and they hate his eyes even more. It’s a defense mechanism. Not quite a human one but that doesn’t bother him. He’s not quite human anyway so it fits.

Sometimes it feels like it’s taken root in his chest, encasing his heart and pumping through his veins till it reaches his hands and feet. Other times he feels it in the tips of his fingers first and it buries its way into his bones, crawling towards his ribs.

He can’t remember a time when it wasn’t his constant companion, a whisper in his lungs, a reminder in his head. He doesn’t remember warmth and so he doesn’t miss it either. He thinks he remembers learning that souls were made of an everburning fire in everyone’s chest, supposedly visible in their eyes. He knows it’s just poetry but he can see them floating behind people’s consciousness. 

He wonders if anyone can see the lack of one in his eyes. He finds he’s quite fond of that notion: that maybe ice is the only inhabitant where his soul of fire should have been, that perhaps that’s the reason people flinch when he looks at them, looks through them. 

He can see their souls in their eyes, little flames walking down the street. It’s fascinating to see their bodies when the fire is gone, even more interesting to watch it as it flees, sputtering out slowly as they cough up red.

Once it’s gone their skin is cold, like his. And their eyes match his eyes, lifeless and icy. People say they are dead. He wonders if that’s what he is too. He quite likes the sound of it. 

He thinks he feels dead. He certainly doesn’t feel alive when others describe it. He doesn’t feel much and maybe that’s death. He can’t remember emotion. And so he doesn’t miss it. He thinks maybe it’s a blessing.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys liked it leave a comment. They make my day! Seriously I love reading them so please leave me one cause they motivate me to write more! if you guys have ideas for other one-shots send me an ask on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imadetheline) or just yell about stuff with me. I also have another tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/soithinkicanwrite) for all my writing stuff and one [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/madness-shared-by-two) for everything hannibal. Thanks for reading!


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